As I stand here, watching the tumultuous waves of depression and PNES crash against the shores of our life, I often feel a mix of emotions washing over me. I am a lighthouse, steady and strong, but even lighthouses can feel the strain of constant vigilance.
Every day, I wake up and choose to shine. Some days, the light comes easily - bright and powerful, cutting through the fog of my husband's struggles with unwavering clarity. Other days, it flickers, threatened by the winds of worry and exhaustion. But still, I shine.
There are moments when the responsibility feels overwhelming. I wonder if my light is bright enough, if it's reaching him through the storm of his mind. I question whether I'm doing enough, saying the right things, being the support he needs. The weight of being a constant beacon can be heavy, but I bear it willingly, for love.
This journey has taken us into uncharted territories. Depression and PNES are complex adversaries, often unpredictable and always challenging. I've had to learn new skills, to understand the intricacies of these conditions, to recognize the signs of an approaching storm. Sometimes, I feel like I'm fumbling in the dark myself, but I keep learning, keep adapting, because that's what lighthouses do.
I've come to realize that often, the most powerful thing I can do is simply be present. When the seizures hit, when the darkness of depression seems all-consuming, I stand firm. My presence, my unwavering love, becomes the light that guides him back. It's not always about having the right words or solutions; sometimes, it's about being the constant in a world that feels chaotic and uncertain.
In between the storms, there are moments of calm, of joy, of progress. I cherish these moments fiercely. They remind me why we keep fighting, why the light is so important. Each smile, each good day, each small victory becomes a treasure, stored away to fuel my light during darker times.
I've learned - sometimes the hard way - that to keep shining, I need to tend to my own flame. Self-care isn't selfish; it's necessary. I seek support from friends, family, and professionals. I take time for myself, to recharge and rejuvenate. Because a lighthouse with a dim light can't guide anyone home.
There are days when I stand at the top of my tower, peering out into the vastness of our challenges, and I feel a profound sense of hope. I see how far we've come, how much we've weathered together. I see the strength in my husband, even when he can't see it himself. And I know, deep in my soul, that as long as I keep shining, there's always a way home.
This isn't the journey I expected when we said "I do," but it's our journey. Every day, as I light the way for my husband, I'm reminded of the depth of our love, the strength of our bond. Depression and PNES may be formidable foes, but they're no match for the power of unwavering love and support.
So I stand here, my light burning bright, a beacon of hope, love, and safety. I stand for him, for us, for the life we're fighting to reclaim. And no matter how long the night, no matter how fierce the storm, I'll keep shining, guiding the way home.
Because that's what lighthouses do. That's what love does. And I am both - a lighthouse of love, standing strong against the darkness, always lighting the way back to shore.
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